Haute Couture
by sistersgrimmlover
Summary: Non-magic! Harry Potter was always the strange one. He didn't care for wrestling or boxing. He was more interested in the finer arts. Severitus! Slash!
1. Prologue

**Title**: Haute Couture

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I also don't own any fashion brands that may or may not be named in this unless it obviously sounds made up.

**Summary:** Non-magic! Harry Potter was always the strange one. He didn't care for wrestling or boxing. He was more interested in the finer arts. Severitus!

**Pairing:** possible HP/LM, HG/RW, HG/DM, NL/DM, NL/LL, DM/LL among many moew

**Warnings:** None for this chapter.

**(Chapter) Rating:** T

**Words:** 893

Haute Couture

Prologue

"Filius, look at that one…" Minerva whispered in his ear.

Sharp blue eyes swept over the young person once more and he couldn't help but feel as if this was the person who would make the modeling agency shoot off into the high fashion world. And there she was, in the most unlikely place that he could ever see.

A quaint little fish and chips stand.

Long luscious black hair framed a slightly feline face and solemn green eyes stared forward through round, ugly glasses, glazed over by boredom. Thin as a rail and flat as a board, the perfect build for a model. She had gorgeous cheekbones that reminded Filius of a young Brigitte Bardot. Her skin was flawless and to Filius' eyes, poreless. She was at least six-foot-one.

The only flaw was a thin scar on her forehead in the shape of a lightening bolt.

"She's beautiful," Filius murmured and he was only slightly surprised that he hadn't noticed her before.

Minerva nodded in agreement and she continued to stare at the woman. She could only imagine what Albus would say when he got a proper look at him. She knew Severus would be pleasantly surprised as well.

Well, not pleasantly but…

"There's something about her…something vaguely familiar," Minerva said, under her breath and she couldn't quite remember what.

She was only somewhat aware that Filius was nodding in agreement and she looked over the young woman one more time. She had to make a decision and she knew that she would probably never, _ever _see someone as beautiful and extraordinary as the woman in front of her.

"I will go and speak to her," Minerva decided and the short man sitting across from her nodding in extreme excitement.

The older woman schooled her expression into an open expression. She was quite used to fixing her expression to fit a particular situation and she had been for years.

She _had _been a world renown model in her time.

Minerva approached the stand and the woman looked up, sharply and blinked at her. A charming yet dry smile spread across the woman's face. Minerva was unnerved by the sheer prettiness of the model though she did seem to be slightly…broader up close. It was strange, her dimensions.

"Welcome to Little Fishers and Chips, how may I help you?"

Minerva's mouth dropped open and she lost her composure.

This…person in front of her had spoken in a low register, decorated in a posh London accent despite the fact that they were currently in Little Whinging, which was about forty five minutes from London despite the fact that they were only in Surrey. He smiled at her and gave a breathy giggle.

"You're…you're a young man," Minerva coughed and she quickly gained self control of her facial features and the boy smiled.

"That is correct."

"I do apologize for my behavior," Minerva apologized and the boy coughed and shook his head, as if it were nothing at all that Minerva had mistaken him for a woman.

"It's okay. I get that reaction quite a lot when people find out that indeed have male genitalia."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the young man. He was a sarcastic fellow this it was all in good fun, she could see. He would be fun to work with, she was sure and the possibilities of him modeling were absolutely endless.

"Your name is?"

"Harry."

"Well, Harry, have you ever thought of modelling?" Minerva asked and the question seemed to have shocked Harry into a silent stare.

The man cleared his throat and gave a nervous laugh before shaking his head. Harry wrapped a lock of ebony around his finger and he stared at Minerva with a tilted head. He cleared his throat and gave a loud sigh.

"No…no, I haven't."

"You have excellent bone structure and you are indeed, very beautiful. I believe that you would have a great chance in being the face of many fashion magazines," Minerva said and Harry shook his head and he cleared his throat.

Minerva looked at him in surprise.

"I don't think that's right. I'm just a simply suburban boy. I don't know anything about fashion. I don't have a chance at being a model, of all things," Harry said, softly and Minerva leaned forward and slammed the agency's business card on the ledge and Harry jumped at her forwardness and her obvious stubbornness.

"I think you do. Think about it, young man and when you've finally decided, give the agency a call," Minerva commanded and Harry frowned at her.

"Do I ask for Minerva McGonagall?"

Minerva looked at him in surprise and Harry's alabaster skin turned slightly red. Minerva raised an eyebrow and she gave her a tight smile as she realized that he _must _know who she was and that he _did _nothing something, a little at least, about the fashion world.

"That's correct, young man. I expect a call within the week."

She turned on her heel and didn't give him no for an answer. She was quite sure that he was staring after her in complete shock and a slight smile played on her lips. She sat down across from Filius again and the man looked overexcited and he leaned forward, eyes quite wide.

"So? What did she say?"

"I believe _he's _interested," Minerva said with a completely straight face.

It took everything in her not to laugh at the completely incredulous look that graced Filius' wrinkled face.

:::

**A/N:** You now see a side of me that you've never seen before. I'm taking a break from my OTP: HP/TMR and/or FemHP/TMR and taking a try at HP/LM. It really depends on how that's going to work out. As you can see from the pairing list, it's going to be a bit a like a sit-com or like Valentine's Day the movie. Lots of different people will get involved though how and when is debatable for most except for Lucius, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Albus, the Hogwarts teachers, and Severus.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Haute Couture

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I also don't own any fashion brands that may or may not be named in this unless it obviously sounds made up.

**Summary:** Non-magic! Harry Potter was always the strange one. He didn't care for wrestling or boxing. He was more interested in the finer arts. Severitus!

**Pairing:** possible HP/LM, HG/RW, HG/DM, NL/DM, NL/LL, DM/LL among many more

**Warnings:** None

**(Chapter) Rating:** T

**Words:** 3373

Haute Couture

Chapter 1

"Boy!"

Harry jumped and he resisted the urge to sigh.

They had known he was home the instant that the door had swung open. Sometimes, he was able to get up the stairs and lock himself in his room for a bit. They would leave him alone then, and let him do his homework. He was barely passing in his business class and he knew that Uncle Vernon would _kill _him if he didn't pass. But, that didn't seem like the case today.

Harry slunk towards the kitchen and he had to bend his head slightly to get through the doorway. He could see the thin body and lank blonde hair of his Aunt Petunia. He had inherited his body from her, it seemed and he was glad that was the only thing. She resembled a horse and looked absolutely nothing like him otherwise. His hippo of an uncle, Vernon, was not much better looking.

"Yes, Uncle?" Harry said, dryly.

"Dinner better be on the table be eight. Dudley should be home by then," Vernon snapped and Harry nodded with a quiet sigh.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. Would you like anything else?" he asked, his tone bitingly sarcastic and it was unfortunate enough that Vernon was actually paying attention at the time.

"Watch your tone, boy."

Harry only stared, balefully at his uncle before he turned and marched out of the kitchen, resentful of his dependence on his former guardians. He continued up the stairs and walked straight into his room.

He was nineteen years old now and he _should _have been on his own now but that wasn't the case. He was a sophomore and he had expenses that no one of his age should have to pay off, including rent to his guardians for his room, which he paid in cooking, food expenses, clothes, and books. He was rather far into debt and Harry wondered how he was going to pay it off.

He looked around his barren room and gave a heavy sigh. He walked towards his desk and reached underneath, dragging out his worn Swiss Army rucksack. He pulled out his first textbook and groaned when he saw the note that he had stuck to the front.

Twenty pages.

Twenty pages of sheer boredom, he had to read.

Sometimes, he hated his life.

He tilted his head as he contemplated whether he should read or just wait until later in the night. He was a perpetual insomniac, so perhaps he _should _wait. Or maybe not. He always forgot if he did it later in the night and he was attempting to stop being such a procrastinator. He never did well when he did.

"Reading it is, then."

Harry sighed and began to read the book on economics and such. The numbers drove into his mind and turn his brain to mush as he attempted to process things that made absolutely zero sense to him.

He was just three-quarters through when he heard as roared, "START DINNER! DUDLEY IS HERE!"

Harry jumped and blinked as he glanced at his cheap little alarm clock. He cursed under his breath when he saw that it was 6:30. Dudley was probably there, looking for food that wasn't cooked as of yet. He sighed and shook his head before tying his hair back into a ponytail.

He didn't want to hear complaints of him looking like a girl or that he got hair in their food again, which he never did.

The green-eyed, thin, giant walked down the stairs at his own pace with a grace that most had never quite seen though his 'family' members could never truly appreciate. He walked into the kitchen and crossed his arms, defiantly.

Harry glared at his 'family' and saw that Dudley _had _arrived. He was sitting at the table with Petunia, Vernon, and a girl that Harry had never seen before his entire life.

She had a pug-like face and a sneer. Short black hair fell into a chic bob and her make-up was done rather tastefully despite the fact that her face was still, not very pretty in the least. Harry tilted his head and the girl looked him up and down.

"And who are you?" she asked.

"None of your business," Harry snapped and the girl didn't look surprised in the least at the fact that he had a masculine voice.

She only sneered at him.

Dudley looked surprised though his eyes were roving over Harry's body. Harry could barely resist the increasing urge to shudder at his cousin's lustful gaze. He made his way over, farther into the kitchen and began to prepare a simple meal that he could dress up to make look amazing.

"You didn't think he was a girl?" Dudley grunted.

Petunia and Vernon, both casted disdainful looks at their nephew. They hated any mention of his feminine looks. Harry didn't turn around. It wouldn't due to reveal his smirk. That would only anger his annoying relatives.

"No. His bone structure is wrong and he's too tall without heels."

Harry looked over his shoulder as he began to crack eggs into the bowl. He was making breaded chicken and he wanted that done as soon as possible.

"Fashion major?" Harry smirked and the girl returned his smirk.

"No. My mother is an editor of British Vogue," the girl explained and Harry nodded in understanding.

"Your name?" Harry asked.

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Daughter of Penelope Parkinson, then. I'm a great fan of her work," Harry said, nonchalantly and his relatives all grimaced at his 'queening'.

Pansy had a slight smile on her face instead of her previous sneer. She tilted her head and nodded in understanding. Pansy sighed and looked over at Dudley with a slight grimace. Harry could tell that she felt zero-amount of attraction to her and he wondered how she had ended up here of all places.

"So are you a fashion major…" Pansy trailed off, waiting for a name.

"Harry. And no. I simply enjoy the high-end world of couture from time to time," Harry said, conversationally and he didn't notice how his aunt had frozen and her eyes had flashed in fear.

Pansy nodded in understanding.

"Have you ever thought of modeling? Your bone structure is rather good for a…forgive me, suburban boy."

Harry froze at the question and he couldn't help but remember how _the _Minerva McGonagall had approached him. He couldn't help but remember how she had given him a look that basically and essentially _commanded _him to call her and ask about this whole modelling business even though he was reluctant.

"No…I'm set on going into business," Harry said and he cast a look at his purple-faced uncle whom had relaxed at his answer.

"Boy, when is that food going to be ready?" Vernon snapped and Harry resisted the urge to turn around and throw a piece of raw chicken.

But knowing Vernon, he'd probably eat it. Harry smirked, viciously at the thought before he skillfully schooled his face.

"Soon, Uncle…I just have to cook the chicken and then make the salad. Then we'll be ready to eat," Harry said and he sighed when Dudley gave loud and long childish groan.

"Why are we eating salad? It's _gross_. I need meat. Not rabbit food," Dudley said and Harry rolled his eyes.

"What you _need _is to go on a diet," Harry said, coldly and Petunia flushed and taking offense for her son.

Dudley looked just as angry and he was a bright red. His father was purple and there was a vein throbbing in his temple. Harry couldn't help but feel sour amusement at the resemblance between the two.

The apple never did seem to fall far from the tree.

Harry almost sniggered at that one.

"Shut your mouth, fairy," Dudley snarled and Pansy's eyes flashed.

"My best friend is a 'fairy'."

Dudley flushed and quickly muttered his apologies. Harry sighed and he finished cooking. He began to place the food on plates and he served it to the family whom didn't even have the grace to thank him. At least Pansy nodded at him even though she didn't look like the type of person that would ever lower herself by saying 'thank you' of all things.

"Enjoy your meal," Harry said and he took a plate of salad, knowing that was the only thing that would be left on the table.

"Sure, sure," Dudley said before began to dig into the food, ravenously.

Harry made a slight sign of disgust. He turned to walk past them and back up to his room when a piece of paper was slid into his hand. He looked over at Pansy and saw that she wasn't even look at him. Harry made his way upstairs and went to his desk and sat down, pushing his books to the side.

He examined the paper and pushed his glasses up his nose so that they wouldn't slide right off his face. He sighed and he reared back when he read it.

_Give it a try and contact me when you're ready:_

_020-3487-9165_

Harry sighed and shook his head and slid out the business card from his pocket. It was a white card and at the top it had in curvy, stylish font:

_Hogwarts Modeling Agency_

_Albus Dumbledore, Owner_

_51 Fife St._

_Hogsmeade, Banffshire_

Harry looked down at the card with a contemplative look upon his face. He wondered what would happen if he took this chance and made it big. It would mean the entire world for him to get away from the people that called him 'freak' or 'queen' or a variation of the two even though he had never _explicitly _stated his sexuality.

It's not like he had ever date anyone, anyway.

"What to do? What to do?" Harry asked.

He put the thoughts to back of his mind in favor of eating his salad and finishing the stupid homework that his _stupid _professor assigned him. He continued reading when he heard the door creak open. He looked up and blinked when he saw it was Petunia standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, quietly and Petunia only sneered at him and she crossed her arms.

"I don't care what that Parkinson girl says. You are not to model. You are a boy. Do you understand that, boy?" Petunia asked, coldly.

Harry raised an eyebrow at his aunt before he nodded, slowly. Petunia's cold nature did not melt and she gave her son a disbelieving look before turning around. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms, looking defensive now.

"Fine."

"And you'd do well stop reading those pansy fashion magazines. Especially, _Vogue_," Petunia said, sneering out the title of what was considered many as the Fashion Bible.

Harry hid his amused smile and he nodded with a, "I understand, Aunt Petunia."

Petunia turned from him and she slammed the door behind him. Harry frowned as he wondered what exactly Petunia wanted to hide from him. He waited thirty seconds before darting towards the door and locking it.

He darted towards the ground and lifted the loose floorboard. Harry pulled out the latest Vogue and he flipped through it when suddenly he dropped it as he saw a familiar picture and name.

She looked older than any pictures that he had ever seen as he had only seen pictures of her as a smile child and he had never seen her name in this context.

When his relatives spoke of her, they spoke of her with disdain and disgust. Petunia spoke with the slightest hint of jealousy and Dudley spoke of her with ignorance and just general taunting. Dudley knew that speaking ill things of Harry's dead parents pissed him off more than anything.

_LILY EVANS: COUTURE AT ITS BEST_

_Lily Evans was an inspiration and gift to the world of couture. With fiery red locks and bright green eyes, she was beautiful enough to be one of those up on the runway, strutting their stuff but her true gift lay in her ability to create the most stunning creations that the world had ever seen._

_She took the fashion world by storm when at twenty-two years old, she came with cutting edge designs that were too futuristic for the fashion houses to handle at the time. Rejected, time after time and without a job and barely any money, she made her mission to make her __own __fashion house that would succeed among the fiercer and bigger competitors._

_And along the way, she fell in love with her benefactor and photographer Lord James Potter. He fully supported her in her ambitions and together, they formed what would form the House of Griffin, a line of high-end fashions._

_Lily was described as the princess of haute couture and the only one above her would be the queen, one Coco Chanel. She was known for her modern thinking and kind and careful nature when dealing with runway models and her production staff. Her husband was known for taking the iconic photo of Narcissa Malfoy, the English-born wife of famous French designer Lucius Malfoy, outside of the woman's manor house in Wiltshire._

_Unfortunately, at the height of her career, Lily Evans and James Potter were involved in a tragic car crash, leaving the fashion world and family members devastated._

_We wait for the surviving and hidden member of this talented family to rise and to bring the House of Griffin back to its former glory. For now, Severus Snape stands in as Creative Director of the esteemed fashion line though the line has not participated in a London Fashion Week for fifteen years._

_This month is the anniversary of the iconic picture that changed the fashion world forever._

Harry stared in complete shock down at the photo.

A beautiful woman with blonde hair pulled back stood with the reins of two miniature ponies, one in each hand. She was in gorgeous royal blue dress with an embellished belt around her middle. Sheer tights covered her legs and she wore lace up platform booties. Classy pearls were wrapped around her neck and she wore a purple and sea green feather headdress.

"Lily Evans is my mother…my mother…was the founder of the House of Griffin," Harry whispered to himself and his eyes hardened in fury as he realised that Petunia had tried to keep it from him.

Her silence put the final nail in the coffin and Harry knocked the textbooks onto the ground in a fit of rage. He crossed to the floorboard where he kept everything of worth that he owned and pulled out the magazines that he owned.

Vogue.

InStyle UK.

Schön! Magazine.

i-D.

Nylon.

"Damn Petunia," Harry hissed as he pulled the magazines out and began to sort through them.

He only kept the iconic copies and the most recent ones, leaving the rest on the floor. He dumped the contents of his bookbag to the ground, all of his books and textbooks collapsing to the ground. Harry shoved his magazines into the bag and pulled out from the space beneath the floorboard, £400. He growled and tilted his head. He rammed his decrepit boots that he had gotten from the charity shop onto his feet before standing up straight.

"That's it! I'm not staying in this shithole," Harry snapped and he pulled on his denim jacket and let his hair down over his shoulder.

He knew he looked like a pissed off wreck but he couldn't bring himself to care. Harry didn't have to look good until tomorrow and he sighed, angrily. He leaned down and pushed the business card and Pansy's number back into his pocket. He tore out a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbled a few parting words.

They were nearly illegible due to his fury. Harry shook his head and he opened the door, softly. He walked downstairs and could hear his 'relatives' and Pansy talking. He made sure to skip the step that creaked before he walked towards the door. He slowly opened it and he flipped his middle finger at the glow emerging from the sitting room.

"See you, suckers…or not."

He turned and closed the door before glancing in the driveway. A rather beautiful Chevrolet Corvette sat in the driveway and Harry knew instantly that it belonged to Pansy. Harry walked past it and continued onto the block. It was dark outside and only the streetlights guided him down the pavement and towards the bus stop, three blocks away.

He waited, quietly until a tall triple-decker, violently neon purple bus drove up to the bus stop erratically. The door swung open and Harry stared at it in shock. He had never seen this bus before and he was surprised to see it.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, nighttime transportation to get to anywhere you need to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—you're gorgeous!" Stan exclaimed as he stared at Harry and Harry flushed, slightly embarrassed and he tilted his head as he looked over at the man.

"Thanks. I get that."

"You a model, aren' cha?"

Harry tilted his head and gave a little shrug.

"Not really. My mum was involved in fashion," Harry explained and Stan nodded, looking rather dazed by Harry and Harry stepped onto the bus.

"We 'eaded to London. That'll be £4," Stan said quietly and Harry slowly removed the required amount from his bag before he walked towards the nearest empty seat.

He tried to ignore the leering from Stan and the other male occupants. He tried to ignore the envious glares and curious eyes. It was making him uncomfortable and he couldn't understand why he had ever thought that he could be a model. Well, he hadn't been thinking at all really.

He had only wanted to escape. He didn't care where he was going. Harry had just needed to leave.

Harry crossed his arms and waited as they drove out of Little Whinging. And out of Surrey. The hellhole he had called home for more than a decade and now, after something _this _big had been kept from him, he was leaving. He was leaving to have his own life and it felt good and he couldn't help but smile.

"You have a nice smile, young lady."

Harry looked over at the old wizened crone that had spoken to him. She was giving him a smile that was probably aided by the invention of false teeth, better known as dentures. He nodded at her and sighed.

"Thank you, ma'am," Harry said, respectfully.

He sat in silence and blinked when they announced that they were currently in London, in front of a seedy little pub by the name of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry stood and walked off, slowly and he continued to ignore the leers and gawking.

"Woss your name?" Stan asked and Harry's lips curled into wider grin.

"Harry."

"You a _man_?" Stan choked out and Harry tilted his head, faking confusion.

"I never said I wasn't."

He walked off, head held high and he stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He looked up at it defiantly before taking a deep breath and walking straight up to the door. He pushed the door open and he could feel more eyes on him. He walked up to the bartender who was busy wiping off glasses.

"You've got a room here?" Harry asked.

The bartender looked up and blinked.

"Uh…yes."

"Perfect. How much for the night?" Harry continued and the bartender blinked before giving a toothless grin.

"£40 for you, sweetheart," he said and Harry nodded before slapping the money onto the counter of the bar.

The bartender slid a set of keys over.

"Room 303."

"Thank you."

Harry made his way to the corner and up the rickety and splintering steps. He was tired and he just wanted to find a way to get somewhere. He couldn't call Pansy because even though she was offering him a chance to meet Penelope Parkinson, there was just something about her that he couldn't quite trust. Plus, he had only just met her.

His only chance was to get to Hogsmeade the next day to find the Hogwarts Modelling Agency.

Easier said than done.

:::

**A/N: **This is so difficult to write, it's not even funny but I always liked a good challenge. This is probably what I'll write when I'm not interested in Inside My Mind as I'm not interested right now. But, rest assured, if you read Inside My Mind, I hope to have it finished by the story's anniversary.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Haute Couture

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I also don't own any fashion brands that may or may not be named in this unless it obviously sounds made up.

**Summary: **Non-magic! Harry Potter was always the strange one. He didn't care for wrestling or boxing. He was more interested in the finer arts. Severitus!

**Pairing:** possible HP/LM, HG/RW, one-sided HP/GW, HG/DM, NL/DM, NL/LL, DM/LL among many more

**Warnings:** None

**(Chapter) Rating:** T

**Words:** 4241

Haute Couture

Chapter 2

Harry woke up in the same clothes that he had worn yesterday with a great yawn. He rubbed the eye crust from his eyes and gave a groan when he saw light streaming through the grimy windows of his decrepit room. Harry had not had a good night's rest in the least and that was due to many factors.

Moldy sheets.

Moldy smell.

Grimy loo.

Harry shook his head and trudged to the bathroom. He looked into the smudged mirror and turned on the faucet. He splashed cold water into his face, making him look rather bright-eyes and flushed. It did not detract from his aesthetic beauty. Harry swallowed and brushed his tangled hair from his face.

He shook his head and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his back. Harry could feel his stomach growling but when he was younger, he used to go without food for days at a time. He could afford not to eat for just a few hours, he thought. His sole priority was finding a way to get to Scotland. It wouldn't take long with a flight but it was too last minute and he doubted that he had the funds to get here.

Harry also had to consider other transportation.

A car was out of the question, he knew.

That would cost quite a bit of money as well, including gas prices as he knew some drivers were prone to demanding that their customers pay that little bit.

That left the railway.

"Not pricey…I'd get there at a pretty good time, I think," Harry said, murmuring to himself before he came to his final decision with a decisive nod.

"Yes…I think I'll do that."

Harry flipped off the light in the bathroom before grabbing his bag from the foot of the bed. He continued towards the door and opening it slowly. He walked down the dimly lit hallway and down the stairs. He could see the seedy bartender again but thankfully, the place was essentially deserted except for those who had stayed over the night and were now waiting for breakfast. The bartender leaned forward.

"Anything else? Breakfast?"

"Um…no. I have to get to King's Cross. How far is it to walk from here?" Harry asked, curiously and the bartender seemed to be actually thinking of his question.

"Well, it would be…about a twenty minute walk, young lady," he said and Harry nodded in understanding.

"Thank you," Harry said and he quickly exited the Leaky Cauldron, hoping to God that he'd never have to step foot inside of it again.

Though, if he really thought about it, he would acknowledge that the bartender had been surprisingly kind and hadn't really made a pass at him at all. He greatly appreciated that one because there were just some lines that couldn't be crossed.

The bright lights of the sun made him squint for just a minute before he began to make his way down the street and of course, it was just his luck for him to be going in the direction that people were walking away from. He pushed through the crowd, relentlessly but not rudely. Harry didn't draw eyes at this time of day. Most people were trying to go about their day and didn't have time to actually look at him.

Harry preferred the day for this reason.

It's not like he minded being mistaken for a woman. It wasn't an insult to him in the least and he hated when people though that he _should _defend himself. Harry knew that in some ways, he looked like a woman but he could also look masculine if he so wished it. But, most of the time he just dressed as himself…or really, what he could _afford_ as most of things he wanted were more than his budget allowed.

The last Evans-Potter reveled in the noises of central London. There was talking and laughing and the sound of birds. Cars went down the streets, noisily and the sound of honking was clear. He took in a deep breath and he smelled the most delicious things and that wasn't limited to food. He was pretty sure that he had gotten a whiff of Chanel No. 5, which he had only smelled when he was in shopping centre, accompanying his aunt as a bag boy.

He felt his stomach growl when he smelled a particular bit of treacle tart and then it lurched when caught a whiff of the oh-so delightful fish and chips. Harry thought that he'd gotten enough of fish and chips in his life and he didn't look forward to ever working there again. He hoped that this worked out or that he could at least get a job in Hogsmeade. If he couldn't make it in his chosen career, he'd make a life for himself that had nothing to do with business or fish and chips or anything that reminded him of the Dursleys.

They had made his life a living hell. They had abused him though not sexually or really physically. But, emotionally…he had had to grow up, watching as Dudley was given things that should be given to all children while he got nothing. He had been in a cupboard until he turned eleven and one of his teachers found out. The teacher had been silenced and Harry had gotten Dudley's second bedroom. Then at thirteen, Harry had been forced to get a paper round. He had paid for his own food at that age.

As he got older, he got a part-time job at Little Fishers and Chips where he had worked for four years before Minerva McGonagall, an icon, had found him. He was one of the few fashion lovers that had cared enough to find out her real name, as she had been known as Minnie back then.

Harry continued walking down the crowded pavement for fifteen more minutes and managed to make it to King's Cross in one piece.. He went towards the entrance and looked at the departure board. He searched for the train to Hogsmeade and grinned when he saw that one was leaving nine. Harry glanced at the clock and cursed when he saw it was seven to nine at the moment, anyway.

And the line to the ticket seller was absolutely atrocious. His lips curled at the long line before he sighed and shook his head. He had to get up there. The next train didn't come until one in the afternoon and Harry simply didn't have time to waste. It was quite possible for the Dursleys to find him, as Dudley went to 'college' in London.

He'd have to get cunning.

Harry cracked his neck and bit his lip, giving him a slightly seductive look. His ebony hair fell over his shoulder. He made himself stand up straighter instead of slouching. Harry walked forward, his slender and angular hips swinging. He had a decisive walk that looked like it belonged more on a runway than in King's Cross Station. Without even meaning to, the nineteen-year-old drew attention to himself.

He ignored the protests and tapped the glass just as a curly-haired woman about his age was buying a ticket. She looked up at him, preparing to argue and she stopped. She stared up with chocolate eyes and he gave her a slow smile.

"Um…excuse me, could I please get a ticket to Hogsmeade for nine o' clock?" Harry asked and he barely noticed the posh and refined accent that he used that was so difficult to place by many around him.

"You just skipped me," protested the girl and Harry turned to her with a sincerely apologetic look.

"I'm sorry but I have to meet my agent," he said, lying smoothly.

The girl looked at him in surprise.

"Agent? For what?"

"I'm a model. Um…about that ticket?" Harry said, leaning against the side of the window and looking down at the man through thick, long eyelashes and he almost smirked at the slightly dazed look on the man's face.

He nodded, slowly.

"That'll be £97.50," the teller said and Harry sighed, pulling out £98 from his bag and he pushed it underneath the small open window and the girl gave him a suspicious look.

Harry frowned.

He knew that most didn't carry around the amount of money that he had but he hoped his model lie would hold until he got all the way to Hogsmeade. Harry received fifty-pence change and his ticket and he looked at the clock. He cursed in frustration. He had exactly three minutes to get to the platform and find a seat.

"Thank you. Sorry again," Harry called and began to run towards Platform 9.

Harry pushed through the crowd, shouting apologies at outraged people. He didn't have time to stop and be courteous to everyone. If he did, he would have taken his time but he only had about three minutes now to get on the damn train and he wasn't quite sure if that was enough time. Harry spied Platform 9 and resisted the urge to do a victory dance.

Harry slipped onto the train and looked around for a seat. He had got on to an open carriage, which was perfectly fine with him. There was an entire row that was empty and he sat down in the window seat. Leaning his head back against the soft seat, his pink lips spread into a slight grin. The ride would probably be almost 5 hours, which was perfectly fine with the green-eyed man. Harry could sleep but that wasn't quite why he was smiling.

It had finally donned on him…

Harry was free.

_Haute Couture_

His eyes flew open when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He looked over at the person with blurry eyes and he was met with a kind smile from an old man. Harry pulled his ticket from his pocket, wordlessly before handing it to the man. He punched holes into it before handing it back to Harry.

"I apologize for waking you up, young lady," he said and Harry shook his head, smiling.

"It's quite all right."

The man blinked.

"You're a man."

Harry's lips spread into a wider grin and he nodded in agreement. The old man's smile returned after his surprise.

"You're the second person to guess correctly in the past two days. Kudos to you, sir," Harry said, good-naturedly and the man nodded in understanding before moving on to check the next set of tickets from the people behind Harry.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harry looked over at the redheaded boy standing in the aisle. He had a football underneath his arm and he was donning ripped and dirty knee-length, gym trouser shorts that Harry almost sneered at. He would have if he didn't have a bit more class than the Dursleys.

"Be my guest," Harry said, gesturing to the seats across from him and the boy sat down.

He looked around Harry's age and he was just as tall though nothing about him was graceful in the least. He had a long, gangly body and a long pointy nose. His face was decorated in dark freckles and his hair was a fiery orange. He had a long neck and long arms. He looked like he was stuck in that awkward part of puberty where everything was too long.

"My name's Ron. Ron Weasley. Um…so, why are you headed to Hogsmeade?" he asked, in an attempt to make conversation and Harry gave him an amused look and decided to humor him.

"I was invited by Minerva McGonagall."

Ron's eyes widened.

"McGonagall? My mum knows her. From back in school or something like that," Ron said, dismissively and Harry's temper flared at his dismissal of one of the greatest fashion models of all time.

"Minerva McGonagall is a fashion icon. How does your mother know her?" Harry asked and he pulled back his temper as he was beginning to enjoy his conversation with Ron to an extent.

"From school. We live a few blocks from her. She's kind of scary. She's too strict. I don't know about her being a fashion 'icon' but I guess you'd know better," Ron said, dismissively and Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well, you're a girl," Ron answered as if that was the most obvious thing in the world and Harry gritted his teeth.

"I…see. Why are you carrying around a football?" asked Harry and he was intent on making Ron feel sorry for saying such a degrading thing about women in general.

To assume that just because he was a 'woman' that he'd know about fashion and only fashion.

"I met with a few friends. I'm planning on being a professional football player. I play goalkeeper. That's the person that blocks the goals," Ron said, proudly and Harry nodded, slowly though he was irked by the fact that Ron was simplifying things for him, which he knew of.

Though he was undoubtedly intrigued by the fashion world, he had had to pretend to be a bit more masculine than he liked. Thus, resulted in his obsession with football.

"What's your team?"

"Derby County."

Harry blinked.

"I…see. I'm more of a Liverpool fan. No offense but Derby Country…sucks," Harry said, trying to be gentle about putting down Ron's team and he didn't seem to accomplish what he was trying to do.

Ron turned bright red, which was extremely unflattering and he glared at Harry in annoyance. Harry bit his lip and prepared for Ron to snap at him.

"What do you know? You're a _girl_," Ron spat.

"I'm a man."

Ron's face drained of color and cleared his throat.

"But…but you look like a girl! You're so _pretty_. Why didn't you say anything?" Ron demanded, angrily and Harry raised his hands, in defeat and he gave a loud sigh.

"My name's Harry Potter. I didn't say anything because I don't mind if someone mistakes me for a girl."

"Why not? You're a man!" Ron said but he didn't sound angry any more.

He sounded more intrigued by what Harry was saying and Harry wasn't quite sure if he liked the redhead or not but he didn't decide. He would wait for his reaction to what Harry was about to say.

"In this society, if a man is called a woman, that's the biggest insult they could get. Is that because women are considered something less?" Harry asked and Ron seemed to process the question.

He flushed embarrassment.

"No…I guess not. I'm sorry."

Harry's lips curled into a smile. He supposed that he might learn to like Ron. He just had to ram those sexist and chauvinistic thoughts out of his head and then perhaps…

"It's fine. So…Derby County? Really?"

_Haute Couture_

The train came to a stop and both boys had barely paid attention it. They had simply stood and began walking together. The station in Hogsmeade was incredibly small as it wasn't a very well known town besides the fact that Minerva McGonagall lived there and she was generally gone quite a bit. Most probably assumed that she wasn't there, as Fashion Week was fast approaching in about three months.

Ron stopped and pulled a jacket from his bag as they prepared to exit the warm platform and into the rainy little burgh of Hogsmeade. Harry simply tightened his jacket around him and opened the door. The two nineteen-years old stepped into the rain and Ron sighed.

"You can come over to my house for a bit to eat, if you want," Ron suggested, excitedly and Harry nodded in agreement and he tilted his head.

"How far is it?"

"It's a small town, so it should only take us five minutes to get to the Burrow," Ron said, conversationally and Harry couldn't help but grin at the name that he had given his family's home.

They walked in an amiable silence until they came to a towering and almost rickety old wooden house. To the side was a modest garden that was actually full of useful vegetables and fruits unlike the frivolous garden that Petunia had made him tend. He had eventually stopped as he despised the fact that he was always getting cut.

"It's not much…" Ron said, suddenly embarrassed but Harry shook his head.

"It's amazing," Harry breathed and he shook his head, unable to believe that this house was actually standing.

Ron turned a pleased pink before he marched right up to the door and pushed it open. The door creaked but Harry didn't mind. He was also happy that he didn't have to be out in the rain any longer.

"I'm home!" Ron shouted and there was storming sound as someone ran down the steps and someone else came through one of the many doors.

Harry watched as a pleasantly plump woman with a motherly look about her and short red hair came through in a slightly worn brown knit sweater and a darker brown skirt. A girl whom looked just a few years younger Harry, though was much shorter, came threw in a fitted t-shirt and jeans.

"Ron! And…you brought a young lady home!" the woman said.

Harry assumed she was Mrs. Weasley, Ron's mother. He supposed that the girl was his sister as she looked a bit like him. Her red hair was just a few shades darker and her freckles were not a pronounced as his though Harry could still make them out even with his poor eyesight. The girl looked him up and down.

"_You _brought home a girl? But she's gorgeous," the girl exclaimed and Harry muffled his giggles with his hand and Mrs. Weasley glared at her daughter.

Ron flushed.

"Mum! Ginny! This is—"

"I'm not a girl. I'm a man."

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny stopped and both flushed, not different from their son and brother, respectively. Ginny looked away, flushing and Ron was smirking at his sister. She glared at him with her arms crossed and Harry kept his good natured smile.

"I-I'm sorry…" Mrs. Weasley apologized and Ginny cleared her throat.

"Sorry about that…I didn't know you were a boy. I mean, I didn't think you were a boy because you look like a girl. Oh! I'm sorry for saying that you look like a girl. Most guys—" Ginny babbled and Harry held up a hand to silence her.

"It's quite all right. I get that a lot. And I don't mind being called a girl. My gender is a point of confusion for many," Harry said, simply and Ginny nodded, slowly in understanding and she walked up to Harry, extending her hand.

"Hello. I'm Ginny Weasley," she introduced and Harry nodded and grabbed her hand, giving it a firm shake.

"I'm Harry Potter."

Mrs. Weasley came up next and gave him a hug. Harry stiffened before returning the hug whole heartedly. Mrs. Weasley pulled back with a bright smile and she looked him up and down before recoiling in horror.

"Oh, dear! You're much too thin! Come in, come in and tell me how you met Ron and why you've come to our humble little town of Hogsmeade," Mrs. Weasley said, ushering him into the kitchen and Ron shook his head, following her with Ginny hot on his heels.

The shorter and younger Weasley watched Harry, carefully as he walked, almost strutted, into the kitchen and sat down, gracefully. He had a slight pout about his face and he seemed to have complete control of his face.

"I…just a salad would be nice," Harry said, quietly and Ginny wondered why he would want just a measly little salad.

Her mother seemed to wonder the same.

"Just a salad? Dear, you're bone thin!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed and Harry nodded in agreement to everyone's confusion before he gave a great sigh.

"Minerva McGonagall invited me to the Hogwarts Modelling Agency. Models are bone thin. I'd know, I read Vogue," Harry said, knowingly and Ginny gave him a narrowed eye look as if she were trying to figure something out and Ron was preoccupied with the fridge.

"You're gay?" Ginny asked and Harry smirked.

"I don't care for gender. Love is love. Desire is desire," Harry said, shortly and Ginny frowned in confusion before she crossed her arms and leaned forward.

"How'd you meet Ron?"

"Well, I was on the train, coming here and he asked to sit across from me. He thought I was a girl. I think he was trying to chat me up and he asked why I was going to Hogsmeade. I mentioned McGonagall and he said that your mum knew her. Then, something about she was strict and I defended her. She's a fashion icon. He essentially _dismissed _her. So, then, I pointed that out. He said I'd know better cause I'm a 'girl'. Then we talked about football…he found out I was a man. The start of a beautiful friendship," Harry said with a slight smirk as he sat down at the kitchen table that Mrs. Weasley had steered him towards.

"Where are your parents?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Dead. They died in a car crash when I was much younger," Harry said, quietly and Mrs. Weasley had a heartbroken expression on her face as she placed a large bowl of salad drenched in fattening dressing in front of Harry.

He offered her a smile.

"I'm so sorry," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Thank you for the food. And it's all right. I've…I never met them. I only know their names. Lily Evans and James Potter," Harry said, murmuring under his breath and he was met with a squeal from Ginny.

Ron looked over at his sister frantically and almost dropped the large and rather meaty sandwich he had just made. He glared at her and Ginny was looking at Harry, as if he were Jesus Christ come to Earth once more. Harry cleared his throat.

"_You're _mother was _Lily Evans_? Founder of Griffin?" Ginny demanded and Harry nodded with a smile.

"I just found that out myself but yes. Lily Evans is…was my mother," Harry said, calmly and Mrs. Weasley frowned in confusion.

"What's 'Griffin'?"

"A fashion house. One of the only fashion houses, which can be considered part of the _Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture_. They haven't participated in a fashion week for years! Are you going to bring it back?" Ginny asked and Ron snorted as he looked at his sister.

Ginny glared at him.

"What?" she snapped.

"Since when are you into fashion? I thought you were all about football," Ron said and Ginny glared at him.

"I'm also a girl. I like football and fashion. You've got a problem with that?" Ginny asked, threateningly and in that one moment, Harry could imagine the shorter and curvy girl beating the shit out of her older brother.

"No, no," Ron said, surrendering.

"Are you going to bring it back?" Ginny asked as Harry shoveled the salad into his mouth.

He swallowed, slowly.

"I'm…I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I didn't come here with much of a plan. McGonagall found me at my job and she demanded that I call her…and then…I got fed up with Surrey and just ran here. I have to talk to that Severus man and then we'll see…" Harry said, editing out many things and Ginny didn't look disappointed by his answer.

"Okay…I could bring you to the Agency after you eat. Mum sends me to give the agents food and yesterday Mr. Dumbledore said he wanted lemon meringue…did you make that, Mum?" Ginny asked and she peeked over her mother's shoulder and watched her make the lasagna that would be surely be dinner that night.

"Yes, yes. Bring that to Albus…it's about one-thirty now. There's a kidney-and-steak pie too in the fridge. Show Harry to the agency," Mrs. Weasley commanded and Ginny nodded in understanding.

Ron looked up, sharply.

"Harry, do you have a place to stay?" he asked, curiously and Harry flushed in embarrassment.

He really hadn't thought this through.

"Well…no but I'm sure I have enough money to find somewh—"

"No! You can stay here," Mrs. Weasley insisted and Harry looked at the woman, bewildered by her kind and motherly behavior.

"You've just met me. How do you know I'm not some kind of crazy killer?" Harry asked, confused and Mrs. Weasley gave a smile.

"I help anyone in need. And the fact that you asked that question makes me think otherwise. Now, be a dear, and please help Ginny carry the things to the agency. Ron, accompany your new friend. It isn't raining outside anymore but still wear a jacket. It's chilly," Mrs. Weasley said and Harry nodded before attempting to shovel the last of his leafy meal into his mouth.

He finished and crossed to the sink and just as he attempted to wash it, Mrs. Weasley pushed him towards the door. Harry looked at her, lost on her attempts to keep him from washing his own dishes.

"Mrs. Weasley, I'll do my…"

"You're a _guest_, Harry. You go off to your meeting with Minerva and Albus," Mrs. Weasley said, severely and Harry ducked his head and gave a soft smile before crossing towards the door.

"Thank you again, Mrs. Weasley."

"You're welcome, dear."

Harry sighed.

Even without a plan, it seemed his life was looking up and it had only been a day.

:::

**A/N: **I'm just popping out chapters. I won't have any for a while because I'm trying to write most of it before I update. Or at least half as I think this is going to be a long story. I already know what most of the plot and drama is going to be, which is exciting. Anyway, I wish you all a happy Christmas, Chanukah, or possibly Kwanaza!

By the way, it's Christmas...it'd mean the world to me if you'd review.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Haute Couture

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I also don't own any fashion brands that may or may not be named in this unless it obviously sounds made up.

**Summary:** Non-magic! Harry Potter was always the strange one. He didn't care for wrestling or boxing. He was more interested in the finer arts. Severitus!

**Pairing:** possible HP/LM, HG/RW, one-sided HP/GW, HG/DM, NL/DM, NL/LL, GW/LL, DM/LL, GG/AD among many more

**Warnings:** None

**(Chapter) Rating:** T

**Words: **7955

**Haute Couture**

Chapter 3

"We're here," Ginny crowed as she pushed open the glass door and entered the posh little silver and cream shop.

Harry looked around and was struck by what exactly was happening to him. Here he was at the Hogwarts Modelling Agency and apparently they were in the waiting room area. There were quite a few girls sitting in sleek and futuristic chairs, long legs waxed and crossed. They wore short little skirts and each of them had unique look about them.

The woman behind the desk was beautiful with dark, chocolate skin and darker hair that felt stick straight to her shoulders. She was dressed in a slimming golden mini-dress with a darker gold shrug. Gold star earrings hung from her lobes and the wings of her eyeliner extended halfway to her temples.

The little nameplate in front of her said 'Aurora Sinistra'.

"Excuse me, Miss Sinistra," Ginny said, patiently and Aurora looked up with a smile upon her face.

"Oh, Ginny and Ron. You've brought lunch then? Salad?" Aurora questioned and Ginny nodded in agreement.

Aurora gestured towards the backroom and Ginny and Ron moved through with the food with Harry trailing behind him. Aurora grabbed his arm and glared at him, warningly and she cleared her throat.

"Excuse me but you aren't authorized to be back there. You'll have to sit with the rest of the girls," Aurora said, sternly and Harry sighed shaking his head.

Ginny bit her lip.

"Miss Sinistra, Harry's with us! He's bringing back some of the food," Ron explained and Aurora looked embarrassed by the fact that she had jumped to conclusion and that she had been hostile about it.

Harry couldn't help but smile about the whole thing. However, he felt slightly self-conscious now that most of the wannabe models were looking at him. A pair of Indian twins began whispering to each other as they cast looks at Harry. He looked over at them and they flushed when they realized that he had caught them gossiping about him.

"Is that all?" Aurora asked, suspiciously and Ginny frowned.

"Miss Sinistra…"

"Aurora, dear. I'm not much older than you. I'm twenty-four years old. And it's right for me to ask. He…you are a he?"

"Wow, you people are on a role. Third person to guess correctly in the past two days. Even Miss McGonagall didn't get it correct," Harry commented, nonchalantly and Aurora looked at him in shock.

"McGonagall approached you? I can see why. You're gorgeous but I didn't ever think that she'd ever approach someone. What'd she say?"

"Give her a call. I decided to show up instead," Harry quipped with a smirk and he balanced the Tupperware full of salad on one hand as he fiddled with the bottle of dressing in his other hand.

Ginny was holding the lemon meringue. Apparently, the agency had plastic utensils and Styrofoam plates already. Aurora smiled at him and gestured for him to enter the backroom. The two twins were still staring in wonder after him and Harry looked around the space in the back and frowned.

It was a dank tiny space with brick walls. In the middle was a chic and seemingly misplaced spiral staircase leading up the stairs. Harry frowned as Ron began to ascend them with his sister behind him before he stopped and looked down at his newfound friend. His eyes were bright and he had a large smile.

"Come on, Harry. It's up here," Ron called before he continued upwards and Harry followed, slightly reluctant.

As they got closer to the top, Harry began to hear voices and one was familiar.

"I'm looking through their resumes. They've modelled once when younger but it was for a commercial. They were about four but besides that, they have absolutely no experience."

"Minerva…"

"No, Albus. I don't care how beautiful they are. I do not believe that they have the necessary skills," Minerva said, sharply as she regarded the man that she considered her partners in all things in the kill-or-be-killed world of fashion and he stroked his long silver beard with a frown upon his face.

"At least consider the boy, Cedric."

"I suppose but…"

"Minerva, we don't have anyone else. We haven't produced a supermodel since you. I fear that we'll have to file for bankruptcy if we don't sign someone soon," Albus said, his electric blue eyes no longer sparkling and he looked regretful that he had to admit something as that.

Severus watched with blank black eyes. He was sitting his own custom-made posh suit and he didn't want to be here though he knew he had promised Albus that he would be. The other agents thought that he was here, as a favor and a style specialist but Albus and Minerva knew why he was there. He needed a model to sign to Griffin.

A model that would bring his late best friend's line back to the top where it belonged.

"Minerva, you're simply being difficult now," Pomona said, sounding as if she were pleading with her friend and Severus shook his head.

"She's correct. The two nitwits wouldn't last a day," Severus said, sharply and Pomona glared at him before turning back to Albus just as the door swung open.

Ginevra and Ronald Weasley came through the door, bearing lunch as they did everyday. Though Severus despised Ronald for his complete disregard for couture and his ratty clothing, he did appreciate his mother's food. He never voiced that but his appreciation was there, nonetheless. It was the most that anyone would get out of him.

"Ah! Is that my lemon meringue, Miss Weasley?" Albus asked, cheerfully and Ginevra grinned at the old man and placed it in front of him just as a shadow came into the doorway again and Severus' eyes widened.

He was tall and slender with feminine features. He had delicate bone structure with high cheekbones and the most beautiful skin that Severus had ever seen except or _her _skin. His was paler than hers and he had an elegant neck. Long ebony hair fell over his shoulder and his eyes were almost feline though they were truly almond shaped. They were such an intense green that only word, or more accurately, name came to mind.

"Lily," Severus murmured.

The boy tilted his head back and to the side.

"That's my mother's name."

His voice held the same posh accent that hers did as well and it was so surreal that Severus was finally seeing the rightful heir to his company.

"Hadrian Potter," whispered Albus in wonder and Hadrian raised an eyebrow before putting a hand on one of his hips and Severus finally looked at his clothing and he sneered at the sight of them.

He was wearing baggy jeans with tears in the knees. They were unflattering to his shape and ended just above his ankles, which were uncomfortable looking boots. He wore a t-shirt and a jeans jacket and Severus shook his head in disgust. Lily would probably have a stroke if she saw her son.

"What in heaven's name are you wearing?" Severus sneered and Hadrian turned to look at him.

"The only things I can possibly afford. Who are you?" Hadrian spat in anger.

"Severus Snape."

"The creative director of Griffin, then," Hadrian said, almost thoughtfully there was still a hint of anger in his beautiful face and Severus was captivated by the dynamics of it.

Though he was a little…big around the waist, he'd look gorgeous in both men and womenswear.

"I want him. Sign him. Now," Severus said, sharply and Hadrian looked shock.

Severus noticed that Minerva looked absolutely thrilled at the idea. Pomona looked annoyed and Severus could understand why. The woman had been the one to discover the Patil twins and Minerva had wanted nothing to do with them though she had never said why. Now, Pomona knew and it was obvious that she was envious.

"Excuse me?" Ginevra choked out and Ronald looked close to dropping whatever was in his hand.

"I want him signed. I want him as the face of Griffin," Severus said, speaking slowly as if he were speaking to a child and Ginevra flushed at his condescending tone of voice.

Hadrian blinked before flushing, angrily.

"You just insulted my clothes!"

"It's obvious that you don't want them. You look uncomfortable in them. And don't raise your voice to me, boy," Severus snapped and Hadrian cleared his throat before glaring at the man in annoyance.

"Well, why do you want me to be the face of the menswear of Griffin?" Hadrian demanded, defiantly and Severus gave him a feral smirk that Hadrian reared back at.

"Did anyone say anything about menswear, Hadrian?"

"Don't call me, Hadrian! It's Harry," Hadrian protested and Ronald's mouth fell open as he processed what Severus had said.

"What else would he wear? He's a guy!" Ronald protested and Hadrian didn't react at Ronald's insinuation while Ginevra only watched, still in shock.

"He looks extremely androgynous. He has the facial features of a woman but the biological genitalia of a man…I'd assume," Severus said, sharply and Hadrian flushed at his bluntness and Severus knew he'd have to get over that and soon.

"But he's a _man_."

"Your sister's a woman. She's wearing pants. Careful, Weasley. Your sexism is showing," Severus snarled and Ronald flushed and Albus shook his head with a thrilled disbelief upon his face.

"Well, isn't this a surprise? Hadrian Potter appears after eighteen years _and _he happens to be the person whom critical Severus wants as the face of the fashion house that he is heir to. What a delight," Albus said, excitedly and he popped a lemon drop in his mouth to calm him and Severus sneered at the older man before looking at Hadrian, or perhaps, Harry whom was staring at them all.

Harry was confused and overwhelmed by everything that was happening. They were all staring at him, including Ginny and Ron. Snape was staring at Harry with a strange look and Harry couldn't help but inspect him.

He had a long but not necessarily large nose. His eyes were a flat, glittering black and he had long, luscious black hair that was pulled back from his face and into a low ponytail. He wore a sophisticated black suit with the two top buttons of his white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a pale collarbone. He was sitting in an armchair at the head of a small, modern glass coffee table. Harry looked away from the tastefully dressed man and turned his attention to the others.

Albus Dumbledore was dressed in an eccentric plum pair of trousers and a silk cream button down shirt matched with a neon purple ribbon tied around his neck and then a yellow ribbon tying back long silver hair. A pair of half-moon glasses sat on his crooked nose and he was watching Harry with a kind smile. Sitting next to him on the black and silver sofa was Minerva. She wore a bottle green pantsuit.

Opposite them and across the table was a matching sofa with two others sitting upon it. A larger woman in girth sat across from Minerva. She wore a tweed grey skirt that reached her knees paired with a sunny gold camisole and then a tweed grey blazer. A shorter man, a much shorter man, sat next to her in a neckshirt and trousers.

"You're overwhelming him. Harry, come sit with us," Minerva said, waving him over to the seat next to her and Harry moved, mechanically and sat down while Ron and Ginny stood, confused.

"Um…food?" Ron croaked out and Albus blinked before smiling.

"Oh, yes. We'll eat as we speak. You two would do well to join us. Pull chairs over. The plates are in the cupboard over there, my boy," Albus said, gesturing for Ron to get the plates and utensils and the redhead set off to do as the older man asked of him.

Ginny began to unwrap items and she sent Harry a look.

"Do you have a résumé?" the grey-haired large woman asked.

Harry shook his head.

"I've never modelled before."

"Filius and I found him at a quaint little fish and chips shop in Little Whinging. It's a small neighborhood in Surrey," Minerva explained and Harry nodded before looking down.

Albus was inspecting Harry.

The woman opened her mouth to speak again when Albus Dumbledore lifted his hand.

"Forgive me, Pomona but perhaps we should introduce ourselves before we get into an interrogation. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the owner and founder of this quaint little agency named Hogwarts Modelling Agency," Albus said, kindly and Harry watched as Albus pulled a small clear plastic bag from his pocket and held it close.

"Lemon drop?"

Harry grinned.

"No thank you."

"I am Filius Flitwick. I was there when Minerva discovered you," Filius introduced and the last woman raised an eyebrow.

"I am Pomona Sprout," Pomona said, coldly and Harry raised an eyebrow at her cold behavior while Severus simply rolled his eyes at her behavior.

"Um…Harry Potter," Hadrian said and Severus found amusement in how shy he was now that he wasn't angry or upset or overemotional.

Ginevra swept over with plates of food and she placed everything in front of them. Of course, for Minerva only ate salad and the tinest sliver of kidney-and-steak pie. That was just like her. To eat and keep the discipline of a model though she was long since retired. Ronald pulled up a rolling chair and sat down outside the small circle. Ginevra grabbed a plain wooden chair and sat.

"Lets start with a few simple questions. How old are you, Harry?" Albus asked, curiously and Hadrian cleared his throat.

"Nineteen. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Albus' eyes held the usual and quite annoying twinkle. Severus almost snorted.

"Yes, but I always finds it better to ask than to assume. Now, do you have any interest in modelling whatsoever?" Albus asked, curiously and Hadrian nodded.

"I do. I find fashion interesting in general," Hadrian said, quietly and Ronald frowned in confusion.

"But you like football right? That's what you said," Ronald pointed out and Hadrian nodded, slowly.

"I like fashion more."

"Name four fashion houses, one from each major fashion capital and one fashion house that classifies as _haute couture_ besides Griffin," Severus dictated and Hadrian looked over at the man before clearing his throat.

Hadrian glared but answered clearly with, "New York is not narrowed enough but there is one…Polo Ralph Lauren. In London…House of McQueen. In Paris…House of Vuitton. And finally, in Madrid, there's the House of Prada. One _haute couture _house besides Griffin would be the House of Chanel or Griffin's rival, the House of Serpent."

Severus nodded, impressed with Hadrian's basic knowledge of the fashion world. Hadrian bent down towards his bag and yanked out magazines upon magazines and Severus was even more impressed by this. Ronald looked shocked and Ginevra looked elated.

"Very good. I'd like him in hair, make-up, and dress for a few headshots and then we'll go from there," Severus said and he stood, pulling out his mobile phone.

Harry watched as Severus began dialing on his mobile.

"Rodolphus, I need you, your wife, your brother-in-law, and your nephew at the studio. Bring hair and makeup. I'll take care of the clothing. Gender?" Severus asked and he paused before looking at Hadrian.

"He can work both sides."

_Haute Couture_

Harry was shocked by the sudden change to his life and he looked over at the models that were sitting in the waiting room. They were staring at him in shock as Severus pulled him down the stairs with Minerva following him, briskly. She had taken it upon herself to be a sort of mentor towards him. Albus had smile brightly and had simply handed him paperwork that Severus had said that he would sign later.

"Minerva?" Aurora asked and Minerva smiled.

"He's the new face of Griffin," Minerva explained and the shock and disbelief in the room grew exponentially as Harry flushed at all of the attention on him.

"You must learn to control the blush and quickly. You must love the attention so that the attention may love you back," Severus said, briskly and Harry nodded, slowly as he was pushed out of the door and Severus lifted a car key.

He walked up to an elegant Mercedes and unlocked it, making all of the locks in the door click. Minerva took the passenger seat so Harry slipped into the backseat just as Ginny and Ron ran out. They looked frantic at losing their new friend.

"Harry! Will you be back for dinner?" Ron asked and Harry nodded.

"Definitely."

"Excuse me?" Severus snapped, looking back and Harry frowned.

"I promised that I'd come for dinner. I don't break a promise."

Severus prepared to protest when Minerva sent him a cold look and the combative man settled into his seat and growled under his breath.

"Fine! But tomorrow, we have much more to deal with than a photo shoot. We must deal with the sealed vaults that your mother left for you and such," Severus snapped and Harry nodded in understanding.

Ron and Ginny waved as Severus sped off at a speed that was not legal. Harry stared outside as he contemplated at how much his life had changed since yesterday morning. This was the type of thing that happened in fairytales and never in real life. This was simply unreal and he wasn't sure how to feel about these changes.

The Dursleys were all that he had known and despite the fact that he hated how they had treated him, he had simply grown used to how they treated him. Harry was to do to the chores and it had been like that since Harry was about five.

Harry took a deep sigh and he pulled out the newest British _Vogue_ and was just about to continue reading when Minerva spoke up.

"Harry, before you make this decision, you must know the sacrifices involved," Minerva started and Harry looked up, sharply.

"What?"

"You'll be required to travel a lot. I have a feeling that you will be quite successful and though you'll be considered the face of Griffin, many will wish to have you feature in some of their fashion shows. And you will let them and endorse Griffin as you do," Minerva said, calmly and Harry nodded in understanding.

"But…why do I have to dress as a woman besides the fact that I'm pretty?" Harry asked and it was obvious that he was not upset about this but merely curious.

"Male runway models make less than female runway models. You have the stature and uniqueness for a runway and print model. However, the most you would earn as a beginning print male model would be £96 per shoot. A woman would make at least £128. An experienced male model would make at least £320000. A woman could make £1,000,000 if signed as a house model to a major design label such as Griffin. And it's a rare skill that could make you not a rising star but a supermodel," Severus explained, quietly from the driver's seat and Minerva nodded in agreement.

"A supermodel is defined as a highly-paid fashion model who has a worldwide reputation and a background in_ haute couture _and commercial modelling. Are you ready to take on the consequences of a career endeavor such as modelling?" Minerva asked, seriously and Severus snorted.

"It's not like he has a choice."

"Hush, Severus. He _does _have a choice. It's hard being a model especially for both men and womenswear. We will have to measure your waist and hips too make sure that they are the proper measurements to model both types of clothing. You are essentially a man. You will have to slim down and that will take determination and dedication. You will lose much of your old life," Minerva said, quietly and she looked in the mirror to see Harry smirking at his lap before he looked up and met the reflection of her eyes.

"Perhaps I'd care if I had anything worthwhile to lose."

_Haute Couture_

"Father! What is it that Uncle Severus called for this time?" whinged Draco as his father began to set up the clothing that he wished to get together.

Draco frowned as his Aunt Bellatrix pulled out the make-up things and she began setting up. His Uncle Rodolphus was setting up the tripod and his heavy-duty and rather professional looking camera. Lucius Malfoy was pushing all the Griffin clothing racks that had been in the studio when they had arrived. Draco noticed that there was one rack of womenswear and another of menswear.

So, then it was two models showing up.

"He apparently has found a model that he believes is worthy of us," Bellatrix said, haughtily and Draco smirked as he began to pull the hair shampoos, conditioners, gel, spray, and his trusty straightener out of his bag.

"There isn't ever a model worthy of the Lestranges and Malfoys," Rodolphus sniffed and Lucius made a humming agreement and Draco frowned.

"Where's mother?"

"Back in Paris. Or New York. I don't care to remember right now," Lucius said, sharply and it was times like these that Draco wondered what was keeping his constantly at odds parents together.

"She said that she loves you, however," Lucius continued.

Ah, that's right. He was keeping them together.

There was a loud buzzing noise, alerting Draco and everyone else in the apartment, or the studio, as they called it, that there was someone downstairs. Draco crossed to the area that was once a kitchen but had been essentially demolished and turned into a hair and make-up station. Draco reached up near a cupboard and buzzed Severus in. He turned and put his supplies on the counters and moved the chair in front of the sink.

The group continued to work in silence until there was the familiar sound of a key turning in a lock and Severus stalked through. Minerva McGonagall followed him through the door. Draco could practically _hear _his aunt's lip curling. She despised McGonagall for one or another reason and Draco had never cared enough to ask why.

The door hung open for a minute and Severus snorted.

"Get in here," the sullen man snapped and a tall and _beautiful_ person walked through the doorway, nervously.

It was obviously a man and Draco was aware that most wouldn't have been able to tell unless they had the fine eye, which Lucius had taught him. He was pretty and Draco suddenly understood exactly why his father had brought both menswear and womenswear. Draco looked over at his father and saw that the man was staring at the boy with a predatory gaze and he hid his smirk. It seemed that his father was out to conquer yet another one…he would be disgusted if he didn't know that his mother regularly bedded others.

"He's absolutely _darling_! I'm going to make you up all pretty!" cooed Bellatrix and she flitted over to the boy's side and dug her long red painted nails into his jean-covered arms and he flinched, almost violently.

"He's rather pretty already. Where did you find him?" Lucius purred and the boy flushed, anxiously and Draco couldn't help but smirk.

"I found him. At a fish and chips shop," McGonagall said, coldly and Lucius nodded.

"What's your name?" Lucius continued as he moved like a panther towards his cowering pray and the boy bit his lip before straightening.

Draco noticed that he was taller than him by at least three or four inches but he was shorter than his father's six foot six stance. Not much shorter but shorter indeed.

"Har—"

"His name is Hadrian Potter, son of Lily Evans and James Potter," Severus finished and Hadrian's eyes narrowed in contempt.

"I can introduce myself, thanks. And it's Harry. Not Hadrian. Just. Harry," Hadrian snarled and it seemed to be directed at Severus whom sneered right back at him.

"Harry's such a plebian name. It's absolutely dreadful. I like Hadrian," Rodolphus said, calmly and Hadrian rolled his eyes.

"Compromise, gentlemen. Hadrian is a lovely name for the press to know. Harry is what his close associates and friends shall call him," Minerva decided and Hadrian looked ready to protest before he relaxed and nodded.

"So…what now?" he asked, nervously.

"He's definitely a newbie despite the fact that his mother was Lily Evans," Draco snorted and Lucius made a humming sound.

"Ah, yes. The son of Lily Evans. I didn't know she had a son," Lucius said, calmly and Severus sneered.

"You wouldn't, Lucius. She didn't trust you with anything. Not her designs and certainly not her son. Now, we'll start with menswear. He won't have to get a lot done for that. Light on the makeup, dark clothing. Emphasize on the eyes and play with a light backdrop. The contrst will look strange," Severus insutructed and Draco grabbed Hadrian from Bellatrix whom pouted at her nephew.

"Little Draco…I wanted to play with him _first_, nephew," Bellatrix whinged and Draco rolled his eyes at his slightly childish aunt.

"I'm only washing and curling. His hair is absolutely luscious though a little wild. It'll be easy for me, of course. You can do make-up after. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll have him ready for you," Draco promised and Bellatrix pouted before wandering over to her brother-in-law as she watched Draco drag the poor boy to his hair chair, as he called it.

She gave a sideway glance at Lucius whom hadn't taken his eyes off the boy yet. Bellatrix sneered over at McGonagall before she winked at Lucius. The blonde man's eyesbrows drew up in surprise.

"Yes, Bellatrix?" he asked, softly and Bellatrix smirked.

"You have eyes for the boy."

"He's a pretty boy," Lucius said, calmly and Bellatrix nodded in agreement before she pulled him towards the sigh.

"You do know you are married to my sister?"

"You do know that your sister is currently fucking half of Paris?"

"Touché."

Lucius smirked before he turned his attention back to his son whom was shampooing Hadrian's hair.

"Where are you from?" Draco asked, conversationally and Lucius was shocked that his son wasn't being a snob as he usually was.

"Surrey."

"Oh…" Draco said with a sneer and Lucius smirked.

There it was.

"What's with the 'oh'?" Hadrian snapped at Draco and Draco looked pleasantly surprised to see that this model wasn't a submissive little brat.

"Just…your accent doesn't sound like you're from Surrey. Very posh. Very chic," Draco complimented and Hadrian frowned.

"You don't sound like you're from England."

"That's because I'm not. I was born, raised, and live in Paris, the City of Lights…and sex," Draco smirked and Hadrian flushed at the mention of the 'forbidden' act and Lucius smirked to himself.

"I see…" Hadrian said, nervously just as Draco began to lather his hair in shampoo.

"You're so nervous. You need to relax, darling," Bellatrix said as she skipped over to his side and Draco nodded in agreement.

"Relax," Hadrian breathed and both artists nodded.

"Yes. Relax. This will be quick. I promise," Draco said and he continued to scrub the shampoo into Hadrian's hair and soon he began to wash it off.

Lucius turned to Severus. Severus was looking at his friend with a stern look upon his face and Lucius raised an eyebrow at the slightly hostile look.

"You will leave him alone. He belongs to Griffin and by extension myself. You will not engage in _anything_, let alone sex, beyond this point. Do you understand, Lucius?" Severus asked through gritted teeth and Lucius gave him a look of innocence that did not fool Severus at all.

"Sex? Severus, I _do _have a wife," Lucius said, softly and Severus gave the man a suspicious look before turning away.

Lucius watched Hadrian patiently as Draco pulled him up, preparing to dry and style his hair. Bellatrix was flipping through tubes of lipstick in her, putting it up to the man's lips. Lucius turned from the young man, turning to look at Rodolphus.

"_Êtes-vous prêt à commencer?_" Lucius asked, patiently and Rodolphus looked up from his camera, holding up a finger.

"_Je sera prête bientôt_," Rodolphus answered and Lucius nodded and turned to his son and sister-in-law whom were currently finishing up with Hadrian's make-up and hair.

Hadrian's hair fell around him in natural waves and Draco was currently brushing it smooth while chattering on to the young man about Paris. The green-eyed beauty actually seemed to be _listening _to his son's babbling. Lucius was hard-pressed to do that and he _lived _with the boy.

"He's so pretty…shall I go with nude lips? Dear?" Bellatrix asked, looking over at Rodolphus and Lucius held back his snort, as he knew that Rodolphus didn't know a _thing _about fashion and make-up and he definitely belonged behind a camera.

Severus seemed to be amused as well.

"Nude…Bellatrix, I don't know. I work a camera. I don't even know _how _you apply lipstick. Don't you just swab the stick over his lips," Rodolphus asked with a shrug and Lucius smirked as Bellatrix's horrified expression.

"No, you dimwit! The lips aren't smooth then. You use a lip brush," Bellatrix sneered and she turned to look at Hadrian whom was overwhelmed at this point.

"Use the nude, Auntie. Rodolphus has no idea what he's talking about," Draco said, sneering at his uncle and Bellatrix nodded in agreement.

Harry merely stared, wide-eyed as Bellatrix began to apply the nude lipstick onto his pink lips. He looked around uncertainly at Severus who only sneered back at him. He was confused and he wasn't sure why or even _how _this was possibly happening so fast. He wished that it would slow down but it seemed that Severus had no intention of doing so.

He coughed when he got a face full of white powder and he stared at Bellatrix, incredulous. She simply stared back at him from heavily-rimmed eyes and shrugged before turning back to Draco who was doing the finishing touched on his hair.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry asked, snippily and Bellatrix turned to him with a roll of her eyes as if _he _were the one being stupid and rather ruthless, throwing white powder into unsuspecting people's faces.

"Sealing powder. You'll get hot under the lights so…yeah."

"Up, Hadrian. Up," Lucius insisted and he moved towards him, quickly and pulled him by the hand.

Harry stumbled into the man and Lucius caught him around the middle, his hand drifting to the small of his back. Harry flushed in embarrassment and jerked away, his face heated. Lucius gave a wicked smile.

"My apologies, Hadrian. Come this way. I have a few outfits picked out for you already…" Lucius said and he grabbed Hadrian by the wrist, jerking him forward again so that the slighter and shorter man was pressed up against him, groin to groin.

Severus grit his teeth and cast his friend a warning look. He stood, slowly, ready to put an end to his friend's foolishness but it seemed that Minerva would beat him to it. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and she glared at Lucius.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're coming dangerously close to sexually accosting Mr. Potter," Minerva said, sharply and Lucius frowned before taking a step back and looking down at a flushed Harry.

"He hasn't been protesting…"

"Never the less, you are wardrobe. You touch the clothing. Not him."

Lucius gave her a glare before turning to look at the rack of clothing. He blinked when Hadrian came to his side and began going through the clothing, a spark in his eyes as he went through it.

"What exactly are you doing?" Lucius asked, distastefully as Hadrian stopped at a denim jumpsuit and he pulled him from the rack, spinning around to face the other rack and the bins of clothing underneath.

"Picking out my wardrobe."

Lucius watched as the young man pulled things from the racks, interested in the boy's audacity. He had never had someone refuse him. Models begged for him to dress them yet this boy simply brushed him off, as if he were nothing. It was daring and Lucius knew that daring was needed on the runway.

"What are you doing, boy?" Severus barked from his corner where he was watching and Hadrian quickly pushed past the men's rack and went straight from the women's rack.

Lucius smiled appreciatively. So, Severus had spoken correctly. The boy really didn't mind women's clothing. It was an attractive trait and would definitely help him on his way to the ultimate goal for every potential model.

Fashion Week.

"Picking out my outfit. I don't like any of the men's clothing. Um…this is nice," Harry said with a smile and he pulled out a sequined one-shoulder drape dress that Lucius had created quite a while ago.

It wasn't his most creative work and it was rather drab, really. He sneered in distaste at the young man but the boy seemed to ignore him in favor of going over to the shoes. He tilted his head as he looked through the loafers and heels in annoyance.

Lucius couldn't help but admire how Hadrian gracefully folded himself to the floor and crawled over to the box of couture heels that he had designed. He wondered if he should point the pretty young man to a nice pair of short heels but the boy had been firm about everything. He would pick his own clothes.

The boy pulled a woman's size 9 pair of heels. They were tall and strappy and would definitely accentuate his long legs. Bellatrix sighed, dramatically and she stood, the pouch full of brushes bouncing against her wise hips. Just another reason why she'd never be a model like her blonde sister. She was a bit too curvy for it.

"I have to fix your makeup now! We can't go basic. We have to go dramatic," Bellatrix admonished and Draco's eyes narrowed. He crossed his hands over his chest in annoyance.

"And I'm going to have to straighten your hair. Great."

_Haute Couture_

Lucius looked over at McGonagall and Severus, curiosity upon his face. They were waiting for Hadrian to change as Severus hadn't wanted him leering at the poor boy while he undressed. Lucius had proclaimed honorably that he'd never do such a thing even though he really would. He was no prude and he was sure that the coquet corbeau was no prude either from the way he had smirked at him.

"Where did you find such a beauty?" Lucius asked, curiously and Severus glared at him in annoyance.

"I'm not sure why you need to know."

Lucius chuckled at his ferocity and possessiveness. But, Lucius could understand. If he had found someone like Hadrian, he wouldn't let the pretty thing out of his sight if he could. There were others that preyed on beauties like that. Like that intensely crazy girl whom was creative director for Raven. She was a vulture.

"I'm simply inquiring. He's gorgeous. The perfect example of androgyny and he's also Lily's son. You'll go far with this one," Lucius acknowledged. It was one of his rare moments of honesty and seemed to have shocked McGonagall.

"We found him at a—"

"Does it look good?"

Lucius turned to look at the young man whom stood in front of the bathroom door, stick straight hair hanging to his chest. The dress draped over him and had created an illusionary figure. Black lined his eyes and smoky eyeshadow went from the crease of his eyelids up towards his eyebrows. His lips were a dark red and were pursed into a slight pout.

He stood at six foot six now, exactly his own height in those sexy heels that elongated his kilometer-long legs. Lucius licked his lips slowly and his eyes darkened with lust. He could already feel his body reacting to the sight that the _petit _tease made.

It was clear now that Hadrian Potter was the most _gorgeous _and the _sexiest _thing that he had ever seen.

"_Magnifique,_" Lucius murmured and Bellatrix nodded, firmly in agreement, her lips wide in smirk.

"Gorgeous, darling. I do excellent work. It's nice that I actually have a pretty canvas for once. The modelling world is so strange now. They are all 'unique'," Bellatrix said, distaste in her voice and Rodolphus snickered from behind his camera as Draco rolled his eyes.

"Really, Aunt Bellatrix, that's why we're here. To make them less 'unique' and more…_interesting_. You're interesting just like zat. You, 'Adrian…ze androgynous look. My father is right. _Magnifique_," Draco said, blandly and laying on French accent thick, causing Hadrian to look rather disconcerted by Draco's odd style of flirting and Lucius snorted.

He turned to look at McGonagall and Severus. McGonagall was smiling, appreciatively and nodding approvingly. Severus didn't look so sure. He stalked towards Hadrian and began to circle him as if the poor boy was his prey. He tapped the small of Hadrian's back.

"Stand up straight, Hadrian."

Hadrian straightened though he cast Severus a disdainful look that was absolutely _adorable_.

"Confidence. Be confident. Do not doubt. Do not second-guess," Severus said, coolly and the gorgeous boy nodded once before tilting his head and looking down at the other man.

"So…what happens now?"

Severus frowned. "You have the looks. The background. But now…it comes down to this…do you have the talent?"

_Haute Couture_

Rodolphus rolled his shoulders back as he kneeled in front of his camera and aimed it at Hadrian. The boy was standing there uncertainly and Rodolphus smirked at him. He was obviously uncomfortable with all of this, so he wondered what had made him come here. Perhaps, Severus had dragged him along.

"Any time now, Hadrian."

"Harry. It's just Harry," the boy snapped and the angry expression caught Rodolphus so off guard that he captured the image almost immediately.

The flash had put off _Harry _and he took a step back, an innocence to his face despite the dark, sexy makeup and clothing he wore. Rodolphus snapped that picture as well. Rodolphus smirked and Harry raised an eyebrow at the older man, expecting an answer from him. Rodolphus sighed.

"You have to give me _something_, Harry. You need to _relax_. Pose. How do you feel right now?" Rodolphus asked and Harry seemed surprised by the question.

He looked over at Draco and Bellatrix. Bellatrix was going through make-up palettes and Draco was texting someone on his mobile. He turned to Severus whom nodded, prompting him to answer the question. He hummed, considering how to answer the strange question. He had never had someone ask him that question.

"Uncertain. I'm…not sure what I'm supposed to do with myself," Harry said, softly and Rodolphus nodded, completely as ease with Harry's uncertainty and anxiety.

"Of course you are. It's your first shoot."

Harry sighed. "Yeah…well. My parents did rather well, didn't they? I don't think _they _were ever nervous."

Rodolphus snickered.

"Sweetheart, your parents were behind the scenes. Your father was a photographer and your mother, a designer. They didn't have to face the camera and pretend to be something they weren't. _You _do. Now, you _feel _uncertain. Lucius, what does he _look _like?" Rodolphus asked, subtly coaching Harry before turning to Lucius whom looked Harry over once, his eyes dragging up Harry's long boy.

The boy flushed under Lucius' hot gaze, blood coloring his cheeks rather prettily. Rodolphus sighed. It had been a long time since he had had a doll-like figure to take pictures of. Goodness, the boy was gorgeous. The perfect subject.

"_Méchant. Sexy. Magnifique_," Lucius said with a smirk, "To name a few."

"What?" Harry whispered and Rodolphus snorted.

"He said that you look wicked, sexy, and beautiful. I'm surprised that he didn't say he wanted to shag you. He's French enough and the French have no shame," Rodolphus snickered and Draco pulled himself away from his phone long enough to glare at Rodolphus in annoyance.

"You can shut up, Rodolphus. You're French too, Mr. Lestrange."

"Ah, yes. But I have no shame so…yeah. My statement still applies," Rodolphus said with a charming smile and Draco rolled his eyes before putting his ear back to his phone.

"Yes…yes, I'm back," he said in English before he went back to babbling in French about something or the other.

Rodolphus looked back to Harry. "Now, Harry…Lucius said that you're wicked. Sexy. Beautiful. Now, you have to _feel _wicked and sexy and beautiful. You need to think about what you identify with those adjectives and then apply them to yourself. Okay? Do that _now_."

Harry nodded, his green eyes holding an unearthly glow and Rodolphus almost applauded his wife. She did absolute wonders with make-up, really. He remembered then why he had married her even though she was a right _British _pain in the ass sometimes. Well…most of the time. She was rather insane, really.

"So…sexy…wicked…beautiful. Got it. Rodolphus…"

Rodolphus looked back to Harry, sharply and he almost dropped his camera.

Harry was leaning against the wall, his lips just slightly parted and his eyes hooded and glazed with lust. He stared into the camera and Rodolphus captured the pose, face, and pout, shocked at it all. Harry let him take a few more pictures of that before he shifted, staring far away wit such intensity that it makes Rodolphus flinch.

Harry slid down the wall, his left palm pressed against it and his right hand resting on his hip. He's breathing slowly, as if he's in an entirely different world and as he shifts into different poses of _genius_ and then, not so genius, Rodolphus takes the pictures.

It seems like forever before the silence is broken. Or maybe someone _has _spoken and Rodolphus has been so absorbed in his new favorite subject that he hasn't been paying attention. The only things in his world right now are himself, his camera, and Harry. There is nothing else and there won't be anything else until he is finished and Rodolphus doesn't ever want to be finished

"He's brilliant," Rodolphus remarks as Harry shifted into another pose, this one sultry and seductive, with his legs spread wide and his fingers brushing against his exposed thigh.

"He's rather…talented," Severus admitted and McGonagall hummed in agreement.

"Yes. His methods…well, _your _methods work wonderfully for him, Mr. Lestrange," McGonagall said, her voice cold as she spoke to Rodolphus and the other man gave her a carefree grin.

"Call me, Rodolphus, Minny," he said, teasingly.

McGonagall's face hardened.

"You may call me Ms. McGonagall, Mr. Lestrange," she snapped, coolly and Rodolphus' eyes widened and he glanced at Bellatrix whom was grinning at him with reckless abandon.

"Isn't _she _a frigid one?"

Bellatrix's grin and snickers turn into a full blown case of the giggles and Rodolphus smiles fondly at her because her giggles are the cutest thing that he's ever heard. She sounds _insane _and it's actually hilarious because he's pretty sure that she _is _insane with how neurotic and just plain _weird _she is.

"Okay, Harry. Final frames. Give me a big finale."

Harry winked at him and slowly slid up the wall until he pushed up off of it and gave Rodolphus a coy smile. Rodolphus couldn't help but take a photo of _that_ one. It was kind of funny, Harry, whom seemed sincerely embarrassed before, acting coquettishly.

Harry's smile disappeared and he gave a burning look of intensity, staring straight into the lens of his camera. He crossed his right arm over his chest, holding his hand straight but relaxing his fingers. He pulled his left arm over his head, draping it almost lazily and creating a solid angle with his arm and the slippery black cloth.

Rodolphus smiled.

"Perfect."

_Haute Couture_

"You're not half bad, Potter," Severus acknowledged, grudgingly when Harry was back in his own comfortable, though rather ugly clothing.

Harry grinned up at him.

"You really think so."

"You're terribly good for a beginner," McGonagall said, encouragingly but her tone made it clear that Harry had a long way to go if he ever wanted to become an icon as she was.

"I understand," Harry said, calmly and McGonagall grabbed his elbow and began to steer him towards the door and away from the people he had just worked with.

Immediately, Draco darted in their path and smirked over at Harry. He pulled out a business card from the back pocket of his black jeans and slid it into Harry's jacket pocket with a slight smirk. Harry took it out and examined the name and number on it with slight confusion. He looked up at Draco.

"What's this?"

"My name and number. You were a pleasure to work with, Harry. Such beautiful hair. A little dry though," Draco added as an afterthought and Harry scowled at the other young man whom simply smirked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He moved to stalk out of the room, a little insulted by Draco's attitude. McGonagall rolled her eyes at Draco. He was a theatrical little boy, just like his mother, one of the reasons that everyone whom had ever been signed to Griffin couldn't _stand _the great British fashion model.

"Don't leave yet, my sweet! We always give our favorites gifts!"

Harry turned to look at Bellatrix whom bustled over with two large bags and she threw them at Harry. Harry blinked in shock and when he went to open them, Bellatrix squeezed her red nails over his hand, leaving crescent-shaped marks upon the soft skin. He flinched at the sudden rush of pain and then the added sting of the blood rushing back under his skin.

"Don't open it. It's only a little something. Your foundation, lipstick, lip liner, blush, mascara, and eyeliner. Only the things I used on you today. Oh, yes and I added a four-step face cleanser. Your face was a little oily. Otherwise, you looked gorgeous," Bellatrix said and Harry's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"I'm getting kind of tired of the backhanded compliments," he snapped, annoyance clear in the way he held himself and his tone and a hand landed on his waist.

"Get used to it, _mon cheri_. My gift is in there as well."

Harry almost shuddered at the velvety voice. Instead, he got a hold of himself and looked up into those silvery eyes. Lucius Malfoy was looking down at him with a slow smile that sent a shiver down Harry's spine and it wasn't fear that he felt. This man was undeniably attractive and that definitely got Harry's nineteen-year-old-brain's attention.

"What is it?" Harry asked and he flushed at the breathy quality that his voice held.

God, he sounded like he was a twelve-year-old girl with a crush.

"The clothing that you wore today. You looked breathtaking. I even threw in the shoes," Lucius said and he took a step closer to Harry so that Harry to sort of look up to look him in the eyes.

"Oh…thank you," Harry giggled and he felt absolute _horror_.

Oh dear God, he _was _a twelve-year-old girl with a crush.

"Come, Hadrian. We've got places to be. Namely, Gringotts," Severus said, sharply and he pushed Harry out of the room after shooting Lucius a dirty look that Harry didn't think he deserved.

He would have pointed out how rude Severus was being to Lucius but, then he was distracted by Severus' words. He looked down at the man in confusion and he tilted his head in consideration as they walked towards the lift.

"The bank? Why?"

"Your parents' will."

:::

**A/N: **I'm SO SO SO SO sorry about how long it took. I kind of got intense writer's block and then I wanted to figure out the plot. I've kind of, sort of got the plot. Actually, no. This is going to be plotless and pretty much never-ending, maybe, kind of. I'm not sure but we'll see. I hope you like this chapter.

I don't.


End file.
